The Theory of Retribution
by Insufferabler R
Summary: No matter the compromises, there will still be those who aren't satisfied. Pent up rage at the inevitable chain of events...slightly redirected. [RenoYuffie]
1. Vexed

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**The Theory of Retribution **

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Subtle humor from the narrator and an abundance of sarcastic comments from the characters. You've been warned ;) Enjoy!

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**Vexed****

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Even with all the irrefutable evidence to the contrary, Reno's sanity has always been intact; and, it was optimistically expected that it would continue on that merry path for the sake of every living—and inanimate—being that has ever come into contact with the Turk. Despite the occasional—prompted by nothing other than pure idiocy—drunken brawl or the periodic disregard for one or two direct orders, the young man hasn't yet, as the widely-accepted expression goes, 'lost it'…

…at least not fully.

The lack of police sirens, high-pitched screams, and gun shots echoing through the bleak city of Midgar did nothing but prove such a conjecture; however, even that piece of fortunate information did little to ease Elena's anxiety. And the woman's worry, as unfortunately as that is, wasn't undo.

The energetic, albeit not strictly wholehearted in exerting said energy, wonder, more commonly referred to as Reno, was missing.

Indeed, who could possibly blame the blonde for worrying? As an arrogant nuisance with cockroach-like resilience, who has never been particular famous for keeping his persona out of anyone's business, for Reno, the feat of disappearing for an extended period of twelve hours, if not slightly more, was quite a challenge…

…unless, the red-head wasn't absent of his own accord.

With that simple reasoning, the problem Elena was facing escalated to much greater dimensions than a simple lapse—if not full loss—of reason. Reno could have been in any number of unfortunate locations—not excluding six feet under—and she had no means of attaining any information on his whereabouts. That realization, needless to say, only promoted overwhelming frustration and a heated glare at the innocent coffeemaker from the concerned young woman.

Also, needless to say is the fact that if, by chance, Elena would later find that the disappearing act was, indeed, done deliberately, Reno wouldn't be inclined to (able to?) walk for a few weeks post discovery.

Sighing irritably, Elena resumed work on her messily organized stack of papers, allowing the aforementioned coffeemaker a taste of euphoria at the diverted cold stare which the woman was shooting it while in contemplation. Apparently resigned to her fate, the blonde Turk relinquished her racing thoughts, focusing her wondering attention on the pages upon pages of useless information in front of her.

As per usual, Reno was proving himself quite capable of maintaining the gracious title of 'a pain in the ass', as far as Elena was concerned.

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And what of Reno?

Well, the red-headed wonder in question, while luckily escaping the brunt of Elena's frustration—which the coffeemaker was taking on rather bravely—, wasn't in a particularly happy place himself. While not under the heated glare of a certain, blonde co-worker, he was rather pitifully stuck under the watchful eye of some_thing_—for the glob currently eyeing him could not possibly be considered a some_one…_that'd be too great an honor for the immovable piece of flesh by anyone's standards—much, much worse.

A sheriff.

How Reno got himself locked behind a nice set of polished, metal bars was a mystery covered by a thick layer of dust for the Turk, though something—through experience, one could even say—informed him promptly that the arrest wasn't based on any wrongful accusations…

…if only the bruise under the sheriff's left eye was anything to go by.

Having been awake for no more than a grand total of three minutes, Reno, unfortunately, started noticing an absurd amount of trivial details that weren't looking to work to his favor and could prove less beneficial than problematic in the long run…

…said list header, of course, being the dark gray bruise under the sheriff's left ocular…a very much swollen ocular which, when paired with the other, produced a rather vehement glare.

Indeed, that _pleasant _facial expression was exactly what greeted Reno upon waking. Actually, not only greeted, it was rather blatantly directed _at _him, one could say.

Attempting not to gloat in pride at his handy work—while gray was the most prominent color of the sheriff's discoloration, shades of black and blue easily jumped out upon further inspection…who _wouldn't _gloat at being the direct cause of such a shiner?—, the Turk assumed the most impartial of expressions, blankly staring back at the sheriff as if deep in contemplation. Though, truthfully, in contemplation he was.

A quick glance around his cell left Reno with the distinct impression that it looked…new. Well, relatively speaking, as new as a jail cell could look. This only set the Turk on edge with a very bothersome thought: he couldn't possibly be in Midgar. A city in which 'clean' is a relative term more effectively meaning 'less littered', being faced with a jail cubicle, of all places, with polished floors and sleek bars was unheard of. Not to mention Reno's common brush-ins with Midgar lockups; he probably had most of them down and memorized to a 'T'. The set-up of this particular one, however, he wasn't at all familiar with, which was proof enough that it wasn't located within the confines of ShinRa's key domain. And then, the sheriff…that was a problematic title of authority. Police officers, chiefs, and troopers—not that Reno was particularly friendly with any part of the law enforcement scene—sure…but sheriffs? The city of Midgar was much too large and much too unruly to allow for any such authoritative figure. No, the young man was most certainly _not _in Midgar.

And that, in turn, just begged the question…

"Where the fuck am I?"

Reno's voice was groggy and sounded rather raspy even to the Turk's own ears. Apparently, as warned by most everyone who had any affiliation with the red-head to brag about—or curse about, as was mostly the case—, years of chain smoking and binge drinking were finally catching up with the young man. Writing off the staleness in his voice to 'sex appeal', it didn't take long for Reno to find someone who simply _begged _to differ as far as that sweeping declaration was concerned.

In fact, _all _the red-head got as an answer to his less-than mannered inquiry uttered in his less-than pleasant morning voice was blatantly displayed disagreement—to his write off as well as his terminology—in the form of a disapproving look from a pair of cerulean eyes…one of which, actually, was adorned with a gray semi-circle, courtesy of Reno.

"Aw! Have I happened to hurt your virgin ears?" the red-head mocked his only company at the moment, shooting the sheriff a sweet look that could leave one wondering whether or not a simple gaze could possibly double someone's cholesterol levels.

Such unabashed cheekiness promoted unhealthy amounts of angry red to flood the sheriff's face, enabling, almost comically, the man to resemble an anthropomorphic tomato. Needless to say, however, a verbal response was not forthcoming…

…and no one could possibly blame Reno for taking advantage of the stunned silence.

"Now, I know how difficult the action of thinking is for you, so don't strain yourself too much," the red-head tsked in a distinctly motherly fashion, sitting up on his cot. "But do try and answer my question, won't you?...Preferable the first one…I have no interest in hearing your sap story for the second."

The sheriff's reaction, as unfortunate as that may be, could not possibly be described in any other manner but as an indignant squeak. An indignant squeak that sent a dangerously amused smirk onto Reno's lips, which was threatening to break out since the red-head's prompt awakening. Everyone has their own talents, after all…Reno's just happens to be the art of irritation. The _perfected _art of irritation, one could even go as far as to admit.

"You are _not _to speak unless spoken to!" finally rolled off the sheriff's lips as the only testament that he _could,_ regardless of Reno's rising suspicions, speak and, perhaps even, think.

The man's voice was nasally, a tenor bordering on fragile, female alto despite all outward appearances of the muscle and fat infested torso. The small mustache that he was sporting above the top lip seemed to bristle slightly as he spoke only fueling the Turk's amusement, who was looking somewhat shocked and impressed at the obvious lack of deficiency in speech that the sheriff was displaying.

"Bravo, my good sir. I've had my doubts about your abilities in the field of articulation, but you proved me wrong! Now only to check whether or not you actually understood what you said yourself…" the red-head trailed his signature drawl off, diverting mako-infused, aquamarine orbs to a nearby wall which caught his slightly wondering attention.

Leaving the sheriff to this offended huffing and sputtering—though the man was, actually, forming coherent sentences to express his anger now—, Reno squinted at the framed certificate that drew his attention, which, perhaps, was proof pertaining to the legality of the small jail. No matter what the page was meant for, however, upon it, Reno found the answer to his original question.

'Verna' was displayed in bold, proud letters as the location at which the documentation was issued.

Straining his memory, Reno quickly pulled out the name from the deeper confines of his mind, happy, perhaps for the first time, that he actually paid attention to a part, no matter how insignificant, of Reeve's propaganda on the topic of structuring cities and opening opportunities.

The newly-nominated President of the Neo ShinRa Corp. was a firm believer in granting aid to the growing small towns, which sprouted post-meteor on practically every relatively manageable piece of land, in the hopes of providing opportunity for the less fortunate survivors of the past crisis. This town of Verna, as Reno could clearly recall, was no exception as far as Reeve's generosity was concerned.

Located on a diagonal between the two flourishing cities of Kalm and Junon, the town was quick to grow, but not to any significant extent. From what the red-head knew, Reeve funded the inner workings of the place with no little amount of enthusiasm, sporting high hopes for what Verna might become in a relatively short period of time. While not an industrial giant, by any means, it was unquestionably expected that the town would thrive nonetheless.

Snapping his attention back to the still mumbling sheriff upon the words 'improper treatment of authority,' Reno cut the man off mid-sentence.

"And to what, pray tell, do I owe the honor of my required presence in Verna's jail?"

The red-faced and unsettled individual who began nervously pacing in front of Reno's cell stopped his jagged actions to stare back at the Turk. A very much uncharacteristic and not at all pleasant smile narrowed the line of his lips into a failed try at a look of cordial respect.

"Homicide…but I'm certain you knew that."

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Someone was shaking her.

"Yuffie."

Someone was shaking her _insistently. _

"Yuffie!"

Digging herself deeper under the covers, she didn't even grant the annoying hand, which was rudely interrupting her peacefully slumber, the honor of batting it away…though that was mostly due to the inability to move actively rather than the lack of desire to do just that.

"G'way," the ninja slurred tiredly.

The bothersome appendage was lifted from her shoulder almost immediately with a heavy sigh accompanying the action. It could have been her hopeful imagination playing tricks on her, but Yuffie could have sworn that for the next two minutes the second presence within her room was missing, and that prompted the ninja to relax once again. Closing her eyes tighter, she began slowly drifting back to that tremendously pleasant alternate reality that she was so impolitely jostled out of mere moments ago.

But, unfortunately enough, that state of impending euphoria was, as mostly happens with all good things, cut painfully short.

"Yuffie," the deep baritone from earlier addressed her softly in a coaxing manner. "The ship you are due to travel on leaves in three hours from Costa del Sol. The trip to the port from Wutai will take slightly longer than two. You must get up."

The gentle persuasion, needless to say, didn't work on the stubborn teenager. She remained securely under her covers, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the reasonable request…the reasonable request that was made for her own benefit, no less.

"Do forgive me, Yuffie, but I have no other choice…"

The voice trailed off, and Yuffie's mind, despite its demand for sleep, was set on slight alert.

'_What the heck is that supposed to mean?' _was her immediate thought, which was answered quite promptly in the form of cold water being spilled over the ninja's head. The cool liquid trailed down the whole length of the bed, soaking the sheets as well as the shell-shocked teenager underneath them.

Though Yuffie found herself in a state of slight incomprehension, it didn't take long for her reflexes to kick in and propel her out of bed with the most _cordial _of _blessings _screamed in the general direction of the perpetrator.

Though one look about her room told Yuffie that no one other than her was present, she knew perfectly well who was there before and what to do for revenge.

"Staniv! Go hide your stamp collection and start praying that I'm feeling merciful!"

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**Author's Note:**

Do pardon the somewhat slow start to this story. I decided to touch slightly on all places that will be involved in the action, opening up the plot slightly…mostly on Reno's account. As stated in the summary, this will be a Reffie, so do expect an abundance of their interaction come next chapter and on. Hopefully, however, this wasn't particularly painful to read through. Tell me what you think; I'd absolutely adore feedback :)

-Thanks.

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	2. Undefined

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**The Theory of Retribution **

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Same warnings as last chapter apply :) Oh, and if at any point in time the vocabulary gets too much…scream at me! I'll tone it down…or at least will attempt XD

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**Undefined **

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'_Homicide…?' _Reno couldn't help but consider the word to himself with no little amount of confusion. 

Certainly, the denotation did not escape him. After being the direct cause of said terminology utilization on more than one police report and having committed the deed on numerous—too many, in fact—occasions, the definition of such a term stuck well enough. That, however, did not explain why Reno could not, for the life of him, remember engaging in any such activity, even once, post-Meteor.

Of course, the pull of old habits was somewhat difficult to resist, and the Turk found himself—with more than one instance to mention—rather tempted to resort to his old methods of resolving a bothersome situation, but Reno was nothing if not loyal to his word. As difficult as it was to weasel a promise out of the brash red-head, once he gave in, he did not back down from his undertakings. After pledging to use his EMR for more or less defensive purposes only, Reno was employed by Reeve and assigned to the—not euphemized but real—branch of Administrative Research at Neo ShinRa—the company's bureau of investigations, so to speak—along with his comrades from the old ShinRa days.

Yes, the Turks were restored to a much more legal level of activity, but only under the agreement that homicide, as well as a number of other _entertaining _endeavors, would not be included in the list of, at the very least, _regular_ occurrences.

But the slow progression of events from past to present was certainly not the most pressing matter. Current status and life experiences somehow readily faded into the background, for Reno, in comparison to the very much immediate—and very much worrisome—here and now. The 'here' being Verna—a city which the Turk had no recollection of traveling to; and the 'now' signifying that oh-so _convenient _allegation pertaining to the committed murder—of which (a phrase not used too often…if at all) Reno's hands were truly clean.

The worrisome tidbits and details aside, however, Reno realized that he had yet to form any sort of verbal response, besides his undignified gawking, that perhaps would work to clear his sate of unnerving confusion. So after a few more moments of deliberation and determined concentration on the task of making his mouth move, the Turk was finally able to come up with something that could possibly fulfill his goal of prompting for an elaborate explanation for the simple reason that the inquiry was ever so slightly intelligible…though with no particular eloquence.

"Huh?"

In any case, if Reno could say so himself, the monosyllabic snippet summed up and expressed his musings rather nicely.

"Would you like a dictionary, _sir_?" was the smug inquiry from the other side of the bars where Reno scouted a large and indisputably self-satisfied smirk that drowned out the rest of the sheriff's—though they were hardly distinguishable in the first place—features. The man was diligently making a show of polishing the badge on his chest with the, questionably, clean cuff of his shirt.

Watching the demonstration with little to no great amount of amusement, Reno languidly got off his cot and shifted his feet in a lethargic manner towards the _polished—_the Turk still couldn't quite accept the fact—bars. Coming to a dead halt in front of the sheriff, Reno had to acknowledge his slight disappointment at the metal barricade between the two…because otherwise…

"I'm very much a kinesthetic learner, admittedly," the Turk smiled acidly. "So, really, a dictionary won't do me much good. On the other hand, if you would be willing to play the victim, I'm sure I can manage to show you that I don't require any theoretic definitions…" Reno trailed off, looking calmly at the now startled sheriff, who, involuntarily, took a few steps back from the cell.

"Th-this is p-preposterous!" the man sputtered back in indignation—more out of fear than actual fury. "I'll have you know—!"

"Yeah, yeah: you're the authority and I'm the alleged criminal, shoo, la, la, and all the good stuff," Reno cut the man off with a roll of bored, aquamarine orbs. "Did I miss anything? Or were you, god forbid, going to say something else?"

"H-how dare you?!"

"As much as I appreciate watching your bout of self-righteous indignation, I'd be even more appreciative if you cut the sorry display short and tell me something mildly constructive."

Reno's mocking flow of words was met with dead silence and an unnervingly steadfast glare. Apparently, Reno simply _had_ to note (belatedly), the sheriff wasn't all that used to being treated in any such manner of indifference and was currently demonstrating his protest by boycotting any form of verbal response.

But Reno was no longer concerned with the—elevated to the point of cheap drama—silence from his current, and very much unpleasant, company in light of catching a few rather interesting words from a nasally voice, who's high and mighty manner of speech ever-so much reminded the Turk of a newscaster. And, sure enough, upon further inspection of the sheriff's desk—due to the red-head's need to locate the source of said nasally drone—, Reno noticed a small television, which he neglected to pay attention to until then, broadcasting the local, morning (eleven o'clock, to be precise) news.

Among the less interesting details and complicated terms, the Turk could clearly identify a few attention-grasping phrases. Phrases such as "Mayor's death," "conducting further investigation," "no eye witnesses present at the scene of the crime," and—the Turk's personal favorite—"a suspect brought in for questioning" didn't have a chance in slipping past Reno's strained and keen ears.

Indeed, it goes without saying, the red-head no longer required the sheriff's aid to dispel his puzzlement.

Still…

"Was the body at least charred beyond all recognition?"

Fully realizing that the wining element of mystery was now lost, the sheriff scowled, stalking towards the four by eight piece of dark wood—that could, apparently, brag about being the only door to the small jail house—with a drawn out sigh to emphasize his lack of desire to produce a response.

"Oi!" Reno called after him in mild curiosity. "Where the hell are you going?"

"It's lunchtime," was the snipped response, followed by the overly aggressive slam of the thin, wooden plank of a door, which miraculously remained on its hinges, and in place, even after the unprovoked—not by the door in any case—maltreatment.

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It can easily be considered very much out of character for the ever sociable Princess of Wutai to decline herself the pleasure of making a new acquaintance, as long as said individual won't, by weakness of character, sentimentality or otherwise, be a bother to deal with after the initial introduction (this, of course, as the reader may notice, excludes almost all of the world's population from Yuffie's spectacularly short list of friends, but let us not over examine such trivial details). In any case, there are, of course, those few, _rare_ instances in which the ninja would rather not acquaint herself with _certain…_libertines—not to substitute a much more vulgar term for the word. 

Excluding the very much unpleasant meeting with her digested breakfast while on the boat ride, Yuffie, unfortunately enough, did not finish her day with a lack of more such _unpleasant _meetings, which reacquainted her with _certain, _aforementioned 'libertine.'

While stumbling off the boat at Junon's harbor in half daze, half happiness at approximately six o'clock in the evening, and getting ready to kiss the ground for being so solid and so immobile, Yuffie bumped into a certain body, which, at first glance, proved to be approximately a head taller than the girl and, rather obviously, male. Deciding to curb her tongue for the simple sake of wanting to keep all her limbs attached and unharmed, Yuffie decided to take a much easier route and mumble an apology first with the expectation to be answered in the same, polite manner.

Needless to say, however, that when she received a very much distracted "whatever" as a reply, all of the ninja's self-control evaporated alarmingly fast into, slight more than mild, irritation.

"Ever heard of that useful thing called etiquette?" Yuffie questioned coldly, turning towards the figure, who was already brushing past her and hurrying towards the pier.

The man stopped mid-step, rather obviously not expecting such reproach. Turning around as if still in mild disbelief, he finally faced the ninja fully, allowing Yuffie an unobstructed view of his _very _familiar face. To her widening eyes and gaping mouth, Reno couldn't add anything else but a slap to his forehead with a muttered,

"You've got to be shitting me."

Yes, indeed; neither was quite expecting to find the other…_ever. _And, perhaps, the following events would have transpired much more smoothly if only they hadn't.

Before Yuffie could fade into the moving crowd and Reno could duck into the first available place in line for the next ship—escaping each other being at that point more prominent of a desire than the fulfillment of their original goals—, two police officers approached the unfortunate duo with the most conceited and serious of facades.

Having been informed of Reno's 'mysterious' disappearance from Verna's jail house (thank you Reeve for the _convenient _and _perfectly-functioning _communication system), and having spotted the young woman, apparently, engaged in conversation with the 'suspect,' one of the two officers asked _both, _Reno and Yuffie, to accompany him to the nearest police station under the claim of having a few, _innocent _questions to ask.

Not having the faintest idea of what was happening, Yuffie stared in puzzlement with split attention between Reno and the two authority figures, trying to come up with any plausible explanation for why the Junon city police would request her presence at one of their stations. But, as expected, it didn't take long for her to understand that it wasn't so much _her _presence that was essential as a _certain _'libertine's' attendance. And that, also as expected, prompted unhealthy amounts of imaginative vilifications to spill in a whisper over her lips.

Reno, for his part, could practically see the gears turning in the brat's head from the corner of his eye, realizing from the—perhaps unintelligible as far as eloquence was concerned, but certainly understandable by the tone—mutterings that she had most of everything figured out. The slippery idea of leaving her there and bolting certainly flew into his head, but upon imagining what Reeve would do to him if such truly transpired, Reno quickly declined himself the pleasure. Apparently, he was, rather pathetically, stuck.

'_Oh, the horror.' _

And what made matter _that_ much worse?

When he grabbed Yuffie's forearm to drag her out of her indignant stupor and into the crowd away from the warning shouts of the two police officers that followed after them, Reno, unknowingly, sealed his fate to the responsibility of a babysitter for an undefined but certainly extended period of time.

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**Author's Note: **

Do pardon the somewhat late update! I went on a trip to Italy for two weeks and simply did not have the time to update before then. I'm back, however, and the following updates will come much sooner. I already have most of the next chapter…and it includes much more Yuffie/Reno interaction as will the rest of the story since now :) A small note, just in case you have not noticed: Reno was in the jail house last at about eleven in the morning (when the news came on) and he was already in Junon at six in the evening (when he meets Yuffie). No worries, it'll be explained how he got out of the jail house…I promise! Please tell me what you think. Your feedback would be much appreciated.

-Thanks.

**In Search of Paradise**Do pardon the initial confusion :D I've fixed the problem, so now it should be in the correct category! And I do, sincerely, hope I haven't disappointed you with this chapter. It's still set-up, but a little more information. Thanks for the feedback, however, I was somewhat worried that the idea won't be all that appealing XD 

**Batajitsu**-laughs- We've already talked about it, but still, thank you for the review. It's very sweet!

**Kaikai PANTS**Thanks! I guess it won't come as much of a surprise to you that I have, on occasion before English tests, read a few dictionaries. :)

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